


Kiss me on the Mouth (Please don't bite)

by Summertime_saddness



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, F/M, Heavy Angst, Past Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Rough Sex, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 04:15:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6037720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summertime_saddness/pseuds/Summertime_saddness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malia never knew the exact difference between having sex and just fucking. She does now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss me on the Mouth (Please don't bite)

Malia never knew the difference between having sex and just fucking. She does now. They first do it at school, in an empty classroom, Theo half laying against the desk, the sharp edges of it hitting her repeatedly in the knee from where she’s straddled him. She’s half shifted, blue eyes flashing, snarling a mouth full of white teeth. He grips her hips with human hands, his eyes burning gold in the semi darkness. It hurts as he pushes inside of her, no soft touches and gentle kisses to get her ready, just the shredding of her shirt, a clawed hand fisted in his hair, his own roughly groping her ass, her ribs, her breasts. She meets him thrust for thrust, sweat slowly making a trail down her spine, sharp teeth bared as they both moan. She hates him. 

Theo tastes like burnt leaves and the last dregs of bitter coffee tinged with hard metal, he disgusts her. His fingers are cold when they enter her roughly later, outside by the woods, but she grinds against the feeling, wishing that his hands would leave bruises against her thighs that would last for more than a few quick seconds. Their meeting is never planned, but somehow they always end up here, with Malia’s clothes hanging in tatters against her slim frame, Theo hot and hard buried deep inside her. He snarls against her neck and she howls when she comes, Theo’s rough palms pushing the left cheek of her face harder against the ground in the preserve. 

She thinks Scott might know. She feels his eyes on her at school, as if he could still see the bite Theo had left on her torso under her breast, or the finger shaped bruises that had dotted her ribcage. He’ll come by her locker before the bell rings, even when it makes him late to class, his sweet brown eyes boring earnestly into her own. You can tell me anything, he says. I won’t tell Stiles, I won’t tell anyone, he promises. She smiles, lies, tells him she’s late to class, that she’s ok. She’s fine. They both pretend he can’t tell she’s lying. 

Stiles texts her an apology that she never reads. Glances at the first sentence and deletes the rest. It doesn’t matter, it’s too late for her now. 

She finds his jeep parked outside of Lydia’s house. Theo laughs when she drags him through the unlocked passenger side door.

“Wow Malia,” he breathes, as she pushed him down into the seats, straddling his thighs.

“I didn’t know you had this in you.” 

She doesn’t bother answering. 

Malia cries when Theo fucks into her, his eyes burning gold at he pants into her ear. She can still smell the faint impression of them buried deep in the old leather, buried beneath the more recent smells of StilesLyidasex, StilesLydiasex. All she can do is push back into Theo’s harsh thrusts, digging her claws into the stained leather of the car. She just wants to forget.  
She’s sobbing in earnest when he finally comes inside of her, pulling out of her roughly, his human hands letting go their tight grip on her breasts. They don’t speak as they lay there, Malia’s quiet sobs and Theo’s breathing the only sounds breaking the quiet of the night.

“I hate you,” She whispers.

Theo doesn’t answer, just passes her shirt and half shredded pants. She wasn’t talking about him anyways. She leaves her ruined underwear under the driver’s seat. 

“Same time next week?” He asks later, as they walk down the road to where it splits. 

Theo’s not smirking like she expects, he just looks at her. She doesn’t answer, just looks down the road to where she knows the preserve eventually is. Wonders if she could still fully shift into a Coyote, if eventually the beast would take over and all of this would become some kind of bad fever dream. She doesn’t answer, she doesn’t need too. They both already know she’ll be back.

**Author's Note:**

> I sort of hate myself for this, I don't ship these two at all but somehow this just came into my mind and I had to do it. Thanks for reading!


End file.
